Mugshot

Do I start quite a few of these posts saying my day didn't go according to plan? I was just going to write that and then thought that it sounded over-familiar. Mind you, even if I don't write it much, it's true that quite a few of them don't.

Today, I was going to work from home until the Minx arrived about four and then we were going to head up to Crosby Ravensworth* to stay at the shepherd's hut there. The morning went smoothly enough, so much so that I took a break to go through some paperwork, where I came across this, my driving licence. The address needs changing, which I should have done last year, which is why it's in my to do pile. (If I had time, I'd investigate and find the oldest unattended item. I suspect it's an application for an alcohol licence from when I chaired the PTA.)

In the end, though, I had to go across to the office. How on earth do people work with offshore development companies? Sometimes you just need to be in front of a whiteboard, which, as it happens, totally did the trick in this case.

Happily, I got back in time to meet the Minx, who was just crossing the market square to go to the art shop. She didn't see me at first and it was funny - and also rather endearing - to see her, completely unaware that I was there, walking along, lost in her thoughts. (Or, more likely, wondering how late I was going to be.)

The drive north was lovely, though. We stopped off in Penrith to buy some food and then headed back down south to where we were staying. I think this is the first time we've repeated ourselves, as we stayed here exactly a year ago. But it is so beautiful and there was no doubt we'd come back. So, here we are.

*This sounds like a placename dreamt up by JK Rowling.